


As Darkness Falls

by GoldenSnowflake



Category: Motorcity
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-11
Updated: 2014-09-20
Packaged: 2017-11-11 22:34:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/483603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenSnowflake/pseuds/GoldenSnowflake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the twilight of freedom. Rebellion is fizzling out as silence falls over a world that was once vibrant and alive. Yet in the midst of the decay, two souls linger, and between them is enough warmth to ignite a universe of stars. Mike/Chuck; a series of oneshots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Inevitable

_It's not like he thought it would never happen._

 

"Mikey."

 

_He just … never thought about it consciously._

 

"Yeah, bro?" Mike looked over his shoulder at his best friend and was surprised to see that he'd stopped a few paces back. It was dark and getting darker by the minute.

 

His voice was barely a whisper. "Wait."

 

The leader of the Burners turned around, his attention most certainly captured. Something was off. "What, Chuckles?"

 

He was cut off by the blonde, who stumbled to a stop, face-to-face with Mike. His eyes were wide and he was radiating heat and he looked even more terrified than usual. He opened his mouth to speak before stopping, and then Chilton saw the telltale signs of Chuck giving up: the shaky sigh, the droop to his posture.

 

"Chuck." For some reason, Mike was really beginning to worry. "Whatever it is, just say-"

 

Lips muffled his before he would finish his sentence.

 

_It was inevitable, almost. Expected. Although if you'd asked him about it, he would've laughed and wondered where such a bizarre idea came from._

 

Mike froze, his hands halfway up in a gesture he couldn't remember trying to make. The hands on his shoulders were squeezing so tightly that he could barely feel his arms and the yellow hair tickling his cheekbones was so shockingly soft that it didn't feel human.

 

As quickly as it had happened it was over, the blonde shrinking back, his wild, frightened eyes huge beneath the tangle of his bangs. "Mikey, I'm so sorry, I don't know why I oh no, oh God I ruined everything Jesus Mikey I'm sooo sorry I-"

 

Mike swallowed thickly, his hands around his friend's wrists before he could flail about so hard that he hurt himself. "Chuck," he croaked.

 

"No, Mikey." The programmer attempted feebly to pull his hands free. "I'm so sorry."

 

"Shut up, dude."

 

The blonde's mouth fell open, caught on an unsaid syllable as he blinked at his leader.

 

Mike pulled him forward so hard he shrieked before mashing his mouth to his copilot's.

 

_And yet, as it happened, it was as if some unspoken task had now been completed._

 

Freezing, Chuck exhaled a shaken breath, his fingers twitching once in Mike's grip. When Mike opened his mouth and tilted his head the blonde moaned, and Mike jerked his wrists a final time to pull Chuck against him and ensure that he wasn't going anywhere before releasing them to grip the programmer's face. Violently shaking hands ghosted over his sides before gripping his shoulders, the back of his neck, and then fisting into his blackish brown hair.

 

Jesus.

 

How had he not seen it sooner?

 

Chuck squealed against his mouth when he brushed his tongue over the blonde's chapped upper lip, giving him a perfect (if predictable) opportunity to taste the roof of his copilot's mouth. The slender body plastered to his gave a sharp jerk before melting against him.

 

Mike wanted to pull back; to say something stupid and sweet and condescending and affectionate. But he couldn't pull his mouth from Chuck's. He couldn't even stop his hands from roaming to the hem of his worn shirt and dragging it up to feel the hacker's goosebump-covered spine.

 

Couldn't shake the feeling that somehow he might've missed this and it would've slipped through his fingers; doomed to be a missed opportunity forever.

 

_Something that was just meant to be._


	2. Chapter 2

It was one of those few nights when he’d been able to pull himself away from upgrading the security system early enough to get a decent amount of sleep. Chuck had swept his hair back and had gotten most of it in a rubber band, and after brushing his teeth twice (the garlic ravioli Texas recommended had been a mistake,) he had stepped carefully over the diagrams and piles of dirty socks and clambered into bed.

Chuck loved his bed. Maybe it was because he so rarely got to be in it for more than five hours a night. (Sometimes he wondered if it was because he was always more worn out by the Burners’ battles than the others were, because everyone else seemed to complain about theirs constantly.)

Whatever the reason, when the programmer squirmed his way under his mountain of blankets and nuzzled into his pillow, he felt like he could sleep forever.

He barely heard his door open, and until there was a weight on the edge of his mattress, he had been half-dreaming about bugs in the program he was trying to integrate into the security feeds.

“Chuck?” A warm, gentle hand was squeezing his shoulder. “Chuckles, you awake?”

“ _Barely._ ”

“Sorry, dude.” Mike hesitated.

Frowning a little, Chuck prompted, “Yeah? What do you need?”

“Uhhh… I, um…” Mike fidgeted, running a hand through his hair. He now had Chuck’s full attention. “Nothin.’ Just - y’know - checking up on ya.”

The blonde stared at him. “Dude, just tell me what’s going on.”

“ _Nothing,_ ” Mike insisted with a little shrug. His eyes were full moons in the darkness.

Chuck sat up and leaned against the wall. “This isn’t about that game, is it?”

“No,” lied Mike.”

“This is about that game!”

“C’mon, man, it was freaky.”

“ _Mikeyyy!_ ”

“Dude, it was freaky, okay?!”

The programmer gave an exasperated sigh and hid his face in his hands as Mike turned to sit cross-legged, waiting for Chuck to pacify him. The blonde gave a heavy sigh.

“That game was _not_ scary.”

“How can you _say_ that?!”

Peeking from between his palms, Chuck was mildly disappointed to see that Mike was completely serious. The hacker patted his hands on his best friend’s knees for emphasis. “The graphics were terrible - probably even for _then_. The way they built tension was totally predictable. The map was identical every time, and the algorithm for how it moves was ridiculously basic. He wasn’t even scary, Mikey!”

“Wh- yes he was!” Mike blurted frantically. “How can you be so cool about this?! You’re supposed to be the scared one!”

Chuck glared at his leader. “ _You_ scare me, Mike. How you drive and how you think and how you rope me into insane crap nobody should ever try - _ever_. Cheesy, ancient PC games don’t scare me.”

“IT WAS NOT CHEESY.”

A long silence filled the gap between them. Chuck sighed again. “Do you need a hug, man?”

Mike’s face was impassive. “Kinda.”

The blonde pulled his friend’s head against his chest and threaded his fingers into the dark mop of hair there. There was a long moment of contented quiet and of Mike’s familiar, musky smell. Chuck did his best not to laugh softly, resting his chin on the other Burner’s forehead.

“Maybe we shouldn’t play that anymore, man.”

The brunette snorted, and Chuck could hear the smile in his voice. “Maybe.”

“You sleeping in here tonight?”

“Uh, yeah.” A hand was ruffling his hair, making his stubby ponytail fall out and curtain around his face. “Thanks, Chuckles.”

“Get under the covers. I wanna get some sleep before Kane terrorizes us next.”

There was a flurry of movement as the leader of the Burners stood up and kicked his pants off, crawling into the bed in his boxers and t-shirt. It took everything in the blonde not to burst out laughing when Mike laid down next to him, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Uh, Mikey?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t look behind you.”

Chilton whipped around so violently that the bed shook. The programmer howled with laughter, covering his head when blows rained down on him.

“You’re suck a _jerk_ , dude!”


	3. Chapter 3

You hold him.

You hold him because he’s warm and he’s safe and he’s there.

You know every inch of his back - his painfully-sharp shoulder blades, the one vertebra that pokes out awkwardly (because he has you rub his back and gingerly push it back into alignment every so often.)

You know his smell- sweet, always sweet. His thick hair holds in the smell of his cheap shampoo that he washes methodically with, three times per shower and one shower per day. You know the safe, familiar feel of his spindly, warm body pressed up against yours. And you know the tiny tendrils of electricity that jump between your stomachs when he leans his head against your shoulder and drapes his arms around your waist and sighs.

His embrace is reluctant, and when he does pull close and rest his fingers in the small of your back, it’s timid and lethargic.

“Chuck,” you rasp. In retrospect, you feel stupid for breaking the silence. But what’s done is done, and you are never one for regrets.

“Mmmn.” He snuggles against you now - a bump of chest to chest; the stuffy, sensory-overloady feeling of both of you breathing in the same puffs of air. His lips part and he exhales wearily against your neck, and it registers dully that somewhere far away, your pants feel uncomfortably tight.

“Chuckles, are you okay?”

You hate the way your voice sounds in the darkness - needy. Uncertain.

“Yeah,” he softly sleepmumbles. “I’m fine.”

“Ya sure?” You rub your hand down his back, not caring that it’s crossing that fine line between affectionate and sensual. His stomach pushes against yours and he grunts. You don’t know if his frame moved instinctively because there’s a heady warmth blossoming between the two of you that he’s trying to get more of or because he’s annoyed and wants to get away from your fingers.

“M’fine, Mikey. Get some sleep.”

You do want to get some sleep. Oh, how you do. It’s waltzing around your skull in the shadows, its tantalizing, fuzzy edges seeping in between your thoughts. But Chuck is here, and Chuck is more important.

“I want to know,” you hear yourself croak. There’s a pointed silence and then a curt sigh. He wriggles and gets himself closer before tightening his grip on you until you can feel his ribs. His mop of blonde hair nuzzles against your cheek and his lips drag wetly along the sensitive skin under your jawline. You barely notice the gasp that springs to your throat.

“I’m okay, Mike.”

A pause. Another little nuzzle and a softness - a comfort that melts from him through you until the heady combination of lust and euphoria and sleep come dangerously close to drawing you in.

“I’m happy.”

You release a breath of relief as the mouth against your neck spasms with a momentary smile. You rub his back again and despite the heat coming off his skin, he has goosebumps. He half-hums and half-moans into your jaw and snuggles closer, pressed to you from collarbone to hips. He tangles his legs with yours and squeezes you tightly.

You are reflecting on how good he smells when you drift off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Motorcity fic/oneshot. New fandoms are always so exciting!
> 
> The formatting on here is a nightmare for a noob like me, so I want to let you know that I have all of my fics posted on Fanfiction, and the majority of them are updated there far sooner. I apologize for sending you running around to find newer chapters, but I'm used to their interface and I'm still getting used to Ao3.
> 
> Sorry for a God-awful first chapter. XD The next one's better, I promise.
> 
> ((spoiler: it's bad too))


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